before dawn, after sunset
by Nevertheend127
Summary: She was going to die, and Scarlet thought it was funny. "Give me your dress." Cinder begged, her hands fisting in the ridiculous puffy fabric of her wedding gown. "I told you that you and Kai should have eloped." Scarlet shrugged. (A story about the solidification of a valued commonwealth/lunar alliance, and an actual marriage.)
1. Lace and tea leaves

** A/N: This fandom needs more love. if you haven't read these books before now, you must. End of discussion.**

* * *

She was going to die, and Scarlet thought it was funny.

"Shut. Up." Cinder buried her face in her hands as her friend collapsed into the nearest fold-up chair, laughing until tears of mirth clung to her bright red eyelashes.

"I—Cinder, you look ridiculous." Scarlet shook her head, gasping for breath.

She sighed and looked resignedly in the mirror. Scarlet was right. She looked like an overly frosted pastry. Her wedding dress was a mess of frothy lace, swaths of silk and frills and ribbons and bows that went on for yards, twisting into ridiculous swirls and ruffles that made her want to throw up.

"It's not funny." Cinder fit her hands against her hips, watching Scarlet lean back in her chair and kick her feet up onto the nearest stool, radiating casual amusement and comfort in this situation that Cinder wished she too possessed.

"Yes, it is." Scarlet beamed. "You defeated the Lunar Queen, saved the entire world, and regained your throne as rightful leader of Luna. And yet, when faced with the challenge of an arranged marriage, you allow all the people beneath you to work out the details of your wedding. Including the dress. See, I told you that you should have eloped."

Cinder rolled her eyes. "I'm a public figure now, Scar, that's not how it works."

Scarlet shrugged, taking a cupcake off the edge of the silver platter on her lap and biting into it upside down.

There was a giggling clamor from outside in the hallway, and a small girl with lots of fluffy blond hair clouding around her head stumbled into view. "Ooh, pretty!" Cress squealed excitedly, rushing in. She was wearing a pale, silvery dress like all the other Lunars in the audience. It was customary in a Lunar wedding for all the guests to wear elegant, but simple attire so that none would outshine the bride. "Cinder, you look beautiful!

Scarlet tilted her head, pretending to reconsider. "Sure, as long as Emperor Kai doesn't confuse her with the wedding cake and marry that instead."

Cinder looked around for something convenient to throw at her. She seized her sweater off the back of her chair and tossed it at Scarlet, who caught it with one hand.

"Isn't this place beautiful?" Cress looked around, gaping at the lavishly decorated walls and ceilings. Everything was gold and scarlet and jade, orchids and cranes patterned across paper fans set against the walls. A tiny water fountain trickled down past their window into the gardens, making the room seem far too peaceful to be a part of the busy, bustling palace of New Beijing.

"She shouldn't have to wear white." A sweet, solemn voice echoed from the corner, and all three girls jumped. Winter, who had been sitting placidly in the corner, playing with the hem of her rose-colored slip had been so silent that they'd almost forgotten she was there. "White is the color of blank. We don't want you to be nothing. You should be scarlet and gold. You should be Kaito's colors. Red and gold are pretty together… like little birds, climbing up a ladder… I wonder if they'll be able to see you from so high up." Winter giggled, smiling up at the rest of the bewildered group before turning back to her ornately embroidered sash, which she was now disassembling with vigor. She picked at the stitches and added the lose threads to her pile.

"Uh… okay." Scarlet frowned.

An attendant knocked on the door. "Ten minutes, your Majesty, twenty-six minutes before you make your entrance!"

Cinder's heart thudded violently against her ribs. "Oh, my stars." She clasped a hand over her chest.

"Are the ribbons laced too tight?" Cress's golden eyebrows knitted together in worry.

"I can unravel them for you." Winter offered kindly, picking at a stitch of red thread.

"Yes Winter, we know you're very good at unravelling things." Scarlet said, and the princess beamed. "I think Cinder's just a little bit nervous."

"Nervous? Of course I'm nervous."

"Oh, Stars, I have to get back!" Cress looked at the clock and shrieked. "Carswell is saving me a seat—good luck, Cinder!" She leaned forwards and brushed a kiss against Cinder's cheek before turning on her heel and stumbling out of the room.

Cinder whipped around and glared down at her friend, who's sun-bright curls were twisted up into an elegant bun strung with pearls that glinted with every turn of her head. She looked lovely. "Please, give me your dress." Cinder pleaded. "Trade me."

"What?" Scarlet screeched a laugh. "No."

"Please? I'm going to be on national TV."

"So am I." She countered. "Besides, I have to go meet Wolf. You know he gets nervous about me wandering around all these lunar soldiers all the time. I mean, no offense, but your people are a little crazy."

"I am solidifying an alliance." Cinder reminded her through her teeth, trying to ignore Winter's vaguely amused humming in the backround.

"And I am eating a cupcake. What's your point?" Scarlet quipped, licking the icing off her fingers.

Cinder groaned, throwing her hands up and shaking her head. "I give up." She announced.

As if on cue, the clatter of wood on metal and the swing of electric blue braids announced Iko's arrival. "Cinder!" the android screeched, skidding across the ornately tiled floor and crashing into the wall. "I have to tell you something!"

"What, Iko?" She felt mean for sounding so tired and cranky, but at the same time she could hardly feel sorry. Her head was pounding and her back was stiff, and this was possibly more stressful than taking down her predecessor. Okay, maybe not that stressful, but still…

"You'll never believe this!" Iko bounced up and down, toppling over a tray of mochi and assorted sweets in the process.

"What, Iko?" Cinder attempted to run her hands through her hair, but her fingers got stuck as they raked through curls cemented into spirals with glue-like hair products. She wrung the glitter from her fingers and put her fists on her hips.

"Oh, it's so romantic!" Iko squealed. "Prince Kai just sent me to tell you—oh Cinder, you'll never believe—"

"Spit it out, Iko." Scarlet said curiously.

"He wants to see you before the wedding! He wants you to have your own private ceremony! As in, without the press or the people or the commotion. So you'll already be married when you go out there, and you won't have to be miserable throughout your entire wedding-slash-coronation, oh and it's so wonderful!"

For a moment, Cinder stared.

Then Scarlet started to clap, giggling, and then Winter's contented humming started to sound more like a laugh. Iko's arms wrapped around herself, smiling broadly.

"So… I get married before I actually 'get married.'" Cinder said slowly.

"Sounds like it, princess." Scarlet smiled broadly.

"Well I—that's…" Cinder grinned. "Where is he?"

* * *

They stood behind the heavy red curtain the separated them from the audience, hands clasped together sweetly and Kai's eyes gleaming down at her as Thorne read off of his portscreen. Iko had fished him and Cress out of the audience, and now all of their group stood present except for Jacin and Wolf, who had been expected to stand guard at the front of the Lunar court in case anyone attempted to disrupt the ceremony.

Thorne read off of the site that was supposed to be legalizing the marriage, trying to get through an hour's worth of speeches that would be repeated out there in a matter of minutes. And Cinder still wanted to hear Kai say his vows—not words that had been written for him.

"To share in your struggles no matter how painful, lengthy, or arduous they prove to be—" Thorne droned on.

"Three adjectives that describe this lecture you're giving." Scarlet interrupted suddenly. "Get on with it, Thorne."

"Carswell," Cress hinted. "I don't think you have to read _all_ of it,"

Thorne looked mildly offended, but hastily skipped to the end as the introduction music started to play—a tasteful blend of traditional Chinese and Lunar music. "Fine, say your vows." He switched off his portscreen.

Nearly everyone rolled their eyes, but the emperor launched right into his vows as the chatter on the other side of the curtain started to die down.

"Cinder." Kai said serenely. "I've called you a lot of things during my time as emperor. Traitor, mechanic, Selene, a headache, princess—"

She punched him, and he laughed, despite the scandalized look Iko gave her. She's glad that they're just among friends, because she has a feeling that punching the emperor would have started a war otherwise—people are still convinced that the marriage is purely political. But their friends know them better.

Ignorant of the people around them, Kai leaned down and knocked his forehead against hers. "But the one thing I haven't gotten to call you is mine. You're brilliance and beauty astounds me still, Lihn-mei. I love you when you have engine grease on your face—no, especially when you have engine grease all over your face. I love you when you're mad at me, I love you when you're laughing and when you're trying to cry, and I love that you're willing to go through this ridiculous ordeal for me. Which is why I arranged this ceremony—because there's no way I'm ever going to make anyone else understand how much I love you—all I can do is tell you, and hope you have some idea of how much you mean to me."

Cinder felt the pounding headache that assured her that she should be crying right now.

"Cinder, I promise to love you and care for you for the rest of my life. And I promise that as soon as we get to England on the honeymoon, the first thing we'll do is buy you some jeans and a t-shirt, because I know how much you hate to dress up."

Cinder laughed, and murmured her vows in a daze—she had the words memorized, but she meant every single one of them. She had never considered herself to be good with words, but she was careful now as she murmured little promises of love and faithfulness just loud enough that he could hear her.

When she finished, Winter floated forwards and handed each of them a small wooden tea cup with no handle— (the ones that had been reserved for the following ceremony were much more elaborate) and handed them to Kai and Cinder. The two would have normally prepared each other's tea, but there was little time, and they hastily traded sips of light and frothy tea that had been mixed by Cress moment earlier. It burned Cinder's tongue, but she didn't care enough to stop smiling.

Ceremonial bows were quickly exchanged, followed by a brief, although sweet kiss on each cheek and then one on the lips. Cinder was the first to pull away, and she giggled when she saw Kai looking disappointed.

"Now, by the power vested in me—and in 'you can be a — hang on, waiting for the stupid thing to load…" Thorne scrolled down the screen, and Cinder's head fell onto Kai's shoulder as she attempted to smother her laughter. "I now pronounce you queen and emperor, or whatever I'm supposed to say, the thing's loading… oh, just kiss the bride already."

They kissed, softly, sweetly, with the taste of tea still on their lips and the sound of their friends clapping in the back round. The servants were ushering them away now, but Kai didn't let go of her hand. And it was perfect.

* * *

**Feel like some of these jokes I heard off of TV or something someone else said... so, can't take credit for all of this. no copyright intended- I live by the rule of I read something, I remember it and think it's mine, and I pay for it later. *Sigh. All rights to the author, I don't own anything. I'm just playing with these wonderful characters. Thanks for reading!****  
**


	2. Snowflakes

**A/N—Why are there no stories featuring Winter and Jacin? I have a feeling I'm going to love these two.**

* * *

He loves the way she writes her name.

In lowercase letters under every painting, scratchy characters all crammed together as small as possible to allow more space for whatever surreal message she was trying to convey through her poorly constructed artwork. He couldn't help but notice how much her writing looks like clusters of tiny snowflakes.

She always wants him to see them. The colors she uses are beautiful, even if she lacks artistic talent. But there's always black paint, mixed in with the pinks and yellows and blues. There's always a storm cloud hovering over the painting.

He doesn't understand. He doesn't think he ever will.

But Jacin knows that he will never be able to love anyone like he loves Winter.

Every time he comes back from leave, when he's been on Earth protecting Lavana or so swamped with his duties that he couldn't make time to see her, she's there waiting for him. She runs to him across the loading bay, looking out of place in her flowing white gown amongst a brigade of soldiers, filing on and off of the ships. She beams at him and runs into his arms, giving him a hug that's wholehearted and sweet, if brief.

"Come and play with me." She says gleefully, tugging on the sleeve of his uniform and towing him towards the exit.

He tries to keep his emotions in check, tries to remain impassive as she laughs and shakes out her beautiful black curls. "I can't." He says, in a voice as stoic and indifferent as he can manage.

"But I have a new game." She coaxes, taking him by the hand. A rush of warmth and love surges through Jacin's heart, and he feels his mouth relax into the vaguest trace of a smile.

"What is it?" He asks, letting her pull him towards the hover train.

"C'mon, c'mon! No more questions."

He sees his superior officer glaring at him from the edge of the tran doors, and his stomach twists unpleasantly at the thought of how this must look and what this would do to her reputation. No one else seems to understand how innocent and childlike she is.

When Winter tugs him into a closet to play her 'hiding' games, or when she asks him to play 'doctor' or come to her room with her—everyone else just gives them this_ look_. And he knows what they're thinking, knows it from the way they smirk at him and nudge him with their elbows and make cat calls when she leads him upstairs.

And maybe it's better that way.

Better that they think he's 'screwing the princess' than that they suspect how much he loves her. She was the threat to his impassive neutrality. She was the only thing he truly loved.

Winter was what made Jacin want to live.

So when she proudly offers him her carelessly scribbled painting and drawings, he accepts them like they're gifts of gold and diamond.

When Winter tugs on his hand and hugs his arm, when he knows she's too scared to sleep alone; that's when he'll come to her bed and lie there with her until she's asleep and her hand falls out of his.

There's never anything remotely sexual about it, and it angers him the way some of the guards snigger and point as if there is. Because they don't understand—yes, she's a beautiful girl and Jacin has loved her nearly all his life.

But in some ways, she's a child. She's so sweetly innocent and playful, and she's the only instance in which Jacin ever used the word 'adorable.' Because she is.

But in a sense, Winter isn't Cinder. Not just in terms considering the state of their mental stability, either—Cinder is strong-willed and resourceful and stubborn. She's a princess, but she's also a warrior.

Winter has this sense of regality and grace about her—she has this dignity that leaves no room for question about her position. Cinder is a princess, but Winter is a queen.

Admittedly, Winter is afraid of the dark and can rarely sleep alone—she has hallucinations, addresses inanimate objects and speaks in riddles. She's odd, he'll grant anyone that.

But it's more than her mannerisms and habits; the royalty that doesn't run in her blood is still prominently _there_, visible to the point of being tangible. Her selflessness, her compassion, her strength—it's all the things that matter, all the things that have nothing to do with her shallow and childlike fears.

When he was younger, he envied this. He remembers wishing that he could have that wisdom at such a young age.

"I love you." She informs him, her chin digging into his shoulder as she wraps her arms around him. She's hugged him like this nearly every day of his life, her silky hair against his neck and her fingers wrapping around his shoulders. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, my Queen." He says, rubbing her back soothingly before she draws away and floats up the rotunda like a ghost.

It will never be like the other guards think it is. Between him and Winter, that is.

He'll always be a guard—protective and devoted and trustworthy. And she'll always be the Lunar queen.

Winter will always be his queen.

* * *

I know, I know... I haven't read Winter yet and it's way too early to be shipping THIS hard. But these two just give me so many feels! I ship them like the spanish armada. Thanks for reading! Feedback/critisism is always encouraged and welcomed.


	3. of bandages and broken wings

Hi! So, sorry it took so long- my computer is still broken, so this took forever! But it's Jacin/Winter centered because I'm obsessed with them and going through series withdrawl. So. Enjoy. I hope.

Set whenever- I'm not exactly sure when this takes place. Someone (God bless him) tried to assassinate Levanna and Winter was nearly hit in the crossfire, but Jacin knocked her out of the way and sustained a flesh wound.

*EDIT—sorry, this computer is evil and completely butchers everything I write—I feel like the format is going to go out of control again, so if it does, please tell me and I'll fix it. Thanks!

* * *

"Jacin?"

He can feel her hesitation, the way she lingers briefly in the doorway. She never fails to ask his permission for anything—always remembers the manners he seems to forget and she's gentle with her words. But even with her sweet and gracious nature, there's a certain regality about her—it's in the way she holds herself, in the way she sweeps across a room so surely, how she captures the attention of her followers with a single word, with a flick of her wrist. With a beautiful smile that ached more painfully than the bullet that had grazed his ribs.

Jacin looks up from the exam table and grips the needle tightly between his fingers. "My lady." He murmurs, teeth gritted with pain.

"Stars, Jacin." Her voice has an edge to it, as close as she ever comes to sounding scathing. He can't look at her, but he feels her rushing towards him, a flurry of ice-white silk and tumbling curls, her lips drawn tight together with fear. "Give that to me."

There it is—that effortless power and grace. He feels the sting of a thread sewn too deep into his flesh as she tugs it from his grasp, hears her suck air in through her teeth at the sight of his blood.  
No, not at his blood. Winter is intimately acquainted with pain, as much as he's tried to shield her from it. It's his pain that makes her tense and flinch, and Jacin does his best to still the tremors that run through his body.

"You could have died." She whispers finally, dabbing at the slash across his abdomen.

"My lady," He dips his head formally, his gauntleted hand closing gently around her elbow. He pushes her away gently, reaching for the needle to continue stitching his wound. "You should be back with the other guards. They were ordered to escort you to your quarters."

Her eyes flicker up, an indescribable mix of patronization and affectionate fondness. "You were hurt protecting me." She persisted, dabbing at the gash. "You are my guard. I have a responsibility to my people—"

"To stay alive." Jacin interrupted, worry creeping into his tone. "We haven't caught the assassin yet, you are still in great potential danger."

"The assassin wanted to hurt my stepmother, not me," Winter began.

"And he tried to shoot her _through_ you." Jacin stressed.

Her hand drifted up and rested calmingly on his shoulder, a smile playing on her lips. "You are the one who is injured." She reminded him.

"I'm fine, Winter—" He snapped, all formalities forgotten as he attempted to bat her away.

"Shhhh," She lulled contentedly. "I don't have much time. They only allowed me a few moments with you. And Levanna will be looking for me soon." Her long, soft fingers curled around his wrist and drew the needle from between his fingers. "You should really see a medic." She murmured.

"I'm fine." There was a faint, numb tugging senstion as the curved point dug into his skin.

"Hush."

Sleep was pulling at his eyelids, but Jacin couldn't tear his eyes away from her. He felt like something would lunge out at her at any moment to rip her away from him.

"You're doing it all wrong." He groused in feigned annoyance, but she ignored him. "Pull the thread tighter—don't be so gentle."

She headed his advice silently, a long spiral of satin-black hair brushing against his knuckles like a butterfly's wing as she leaned over him. "You should be sitting down for this." She noted.

"You're not a medic." He reminded her.

"I'm doing better than you. You were shaking."

"I wasn't." Jacin watched a drop of blood slide down the torn, bruised skin where the bullet had grazed him. It trickled down in a thick, scarlet ribbon and splattered onto the sleeve of Winter's dress.  
He drew in a quick, scattered breath and her fragile fingers tightened on his arm.

"Did that hurt?" She fussed. "I can get you more antiseptics—"

He hadn't been in pain.

How easily that could have been _her_ blood, how easily it would have been for metal to tear through her skin, to make her crumple and break and fade. The thought makes him want to be sick.

"Jacin…" She senses it then, her fingers soothing over the strained muscles in his arm and fluttering up to rest on his shoulder, soothing up to his jaw to tilt his face towards hers.

She doesn't usually touch him. It's something he's forbidden since their childhood, knowledge that's as intrinsic to her as breathing. He can't be hers, she can't be his, and she'll never understand why. She'll never see him as anything other than a hero.

"My sweet Jacin," She laughed sweetly, brushing a kiss to his cheek, "I'm alright. I'm here. See?" She holds his palm against her face, and his fingers curl into her hair without his knowledge or consent.  
If Cinder could hear her call him 'sweet'… she'd never believe it.

Stars, she's blind. Winter thinks that he's a hero. She thinks that Levanna is redeemable. She probably thinks there's a chance of overthrowing her peacefully, as well.

But he can't think of that now. There will be time for panic and rage and grief—now is not the time. Her hand is in his, and she's safe with him.

For now, she's safe.


End file.
